


Across the Ring

by anidalaas



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Boxer!Anakin, Boxing, F/M, Manager!Padme, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23304775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anidalaas/pseuds/anidalaas
Summary: In which Anakin Skywalker just lost the most important match of his life and his manager, Padmé Amidala comforts him.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Across the Ring

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for bvrchies au on twitter and wanted to post it here also so enjoy and go check out the full au on twitter :)

The gym is dark when the door slams open. Anakin storms in with his bag hanging at his side and his head down. The lights from the streetlamp outside cast an yellow glow through the quiet room, Anakin’s shadow splaying long and dark across the floor he’s spent so many hours training on. He blindly makes his way to a punching bag, dropping his bag next to him and letting his arms hang limply at his sides. He stares at the bag in front of him like he’s done a million times before. He poured his heart into this, shed blood for this, sweat for this, cried for this, worked so hard for this, all to lose the most important match of his career. He was supposed to be the best. How could the best be such a failure in the moment they needed success the most? He let so many people down; his mother, Yoda, Obi-Wan, Padmé-

_Padmé._

His chest tightened at the thought of her. She had so much riding on this fight, so much riding on him and he failed her. He almost laughed thinking about the scolding he would eventually get from her. She would march up to him, waving her arms and cursing up a storm. He could almost feel the fire behind her eyes already. Her curls would bounce as she shook her head, and the little dimple that only appeared when she was really mad would pop up on her cheek. She was so passionate, so lively, so utterly good.

Too good for him.

How could he ever even think she cared about him as something more than a client? He was just one failure in an otherwise long line of successes that she had in her career. After tonight she would probably drop him, focus more on her other clients that she was so fond of. He unconsciously tightened his fists as he thought of her leaving him. Without Padmé he was nothing; he’d have no job, no future, no livelihood. He and his mom would have to go back to scraping by week to week, counting nickels, and mopping floors.

But he didn’t blame Padmé for wanting to get rid of him. He was a burden, a blemish, unworthy of her guidance and her love.

How could he be stupid enough to think anything different?

With a brutal yell, Anakin raised his arm and threw his fist into the punching bag. It was the first of many blows; he was desperately angry at himself and wallowing in self pity. He barely registered the sting of his gloveless knuckles breaking against the bag. All he could feel was the raging fire burning through his veins. Behind each punch was the weight of failure, each one stronger and more powerful than the last. Sweat rolled down the side of his face, dripping off his clenched jaw and down the the floor beneath him.

He was so close to getting everything he ever wanted, and he let it slip through his fingers.

With one last defeated cry, Anakin hits the punching bag and lets it swing in front of him. His chest is heaving, and his shirt is sticky with sweat. Suddenly, the lights of the gym flicker on.

“You done yet?”

He turns around and meets the gaze of a very tired looking Padmé. Her hair was thrown into a messy ponytail and the heels she wore at the match were now dangling from her fingers at her side. Anakin only glanced at her for a second before turning back around, but it was still long enough for him to catch the purple bags under her eyes and the concern in her face.

“I don’t know. Did you come here to yell at me?” he questioned, walking forward and sitting at a stool. He leaned over to grab his bag, pulling it into his lap and reaching in for the tape he kept there. He heard her let out a deep breath as he began wrapping it around his tender knuckles.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said, ignoring his question and taking a few steps towards him. “You left right after the match. The press is going to have a field day with that. Do you know how many post-match interviews-“

“I don’t care about the interviews, alright?” Anakin snapped. His voice echoed in the empty gym. He hasn’t looked up from his hands, but he could feel the trepidation radiating from her at his exclamation.

“I just- I just want to be alone right now, okay?” His voice is soft, barely above a whisper. It’s silent for a long time after that. He almost suspects she left when he hears her give a determined huff.

“Well, too bad. You’re stuck with me.” Her feet smack softly against the linoleum floor as she makes her way over to the stool he sits at. She kneels down in front of him and it takes everything in him not to meet her eyes. He can’t bring himself to look at her. The pity and disappointment in her eyes would be too much for him to bear. From the corner of his eye, he sees her reach out her hand.

“Let me see.”

He ignores her.

“Anakin,” she grits through her teeth, “let me see your knuckles. I can’t have my favorite client hurt, can I?”

Favorite client? He scoffs, shaking his head bitterly. Her face falls, exhausted and exasperated and half in love with him, but he never sees it, too caught up in his fear of losing her and everything else he cares about.

“Anakin, talk to me. What’s wrong?” She moves even closer, and he can feel the heat of her body faintly against his. He lets out a shaky breath.

“Nothing,” he says flippantly. “Nothings wrong, Padmé. I just think it’s funny you’re calling me your favorite client when you’re going to drop me for good soon.”

Her mouth falls open in shock and he pulls the tape aggressively around his hand.

“What in the world gave you that idea?”

He shrugs, continuing to violently tape his fingers. She bites the inside of her cheek and shakes her head as she rises to her feet.

“Anakin look at me.” Her voice is soft, but shaking with restrained emotion. He ignores her.

“Anakin Skywalker. Look at me.” The request is louder this time, but only slightly. He turns to reach for his bag.

“Look at me!” she finally yells. He pauses his movements, but still keeps his head down. His shoulders slump. This is it, he thinks. This is where it ends.

Looking down at him, Padmé sighs, defeated and confused. She wanted to help him. She needed to help him. She sets her jaw and lowers herself to his level once more. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and she reaches for the sides of his face. “Anakin.”

At the feeling of her hands on his face, Anakin finally looks at her. Instead of the pity and disappointment that he expects, all he sees is concern (and something else he can’t quite figure out) swimming in the deep brown of her eyes.

“Anakin, it was just one loss,” she starts and traces her thumbs softly over his cheeks when he raises his chin to interrupt. “Just one. There will be countless more in your career, but trust me when I say you will be winning more than you will be losing.”

He stares into her eyes, frozen in place at having her so close to him. He yearns to lean into her touch, to close his eyes and let her ease his aching heart, but he’s afraid to move. Afraid to burst this bubble they’ve made for themselves. Afraid that it will all go away. She moves her hands into his hair.

“You are the best boxer of our generation, Anakin.”

He scoffs, ducking his head slightly only to be pulled right back up to Padmé’s eye line.

“I’m serious, Anakin. This was a fluke. You were just...distracted.”

“Distracted?” His voice is rough and low. Looking into his eyes, Padmé sees the hurt, the pain, and the disappointment he has in himself. If he dwells on this for any longer, he may never be able to get himself together again. It’s in that moment that Padmé knows exactly what he needs, and it wasn’t comforting words.

“Distracted,” she repeats, moving her hands to cup his jaw. His lips part slightly, and he looks down at hers for a fleeting moment. It’s almost as if he could feel the shift of emotions within her, just as she could feel his concentrating into desire. Being this close to him, she can see the purpling bruise on the left side of his face and the cut in his lip still slightly raw from the fight. Her eyes search his face and her fingers trace lightly across his injuries. He gulps.

“What do you suggest I do then? To stay focused?” His voice cracks slightly, obviously flustered at the attention she’s giving him. She runs her tongue along her bottom lip as she looks at him, knowing what she’s about to do is going to change their relationship forever.

“You just need a little motivation.”

“Motiva-“ he’s cut off as she slams her lips against his. For a moment, he doesn’t react, too overwhelmed by the softness of her lips and the feel of her against his body. But when she runs her hands through his hair and drags her lips to his ear to whisper, “Ani, please,” he snaps.

Pulling her into his lap from her position on the floor, Anakin places his hands firmly on her hips. Her mouth is working furiously against his, arms wrapped around his head and fingers tangled with his hair. He vaguely registers that she tastes like cinnamon, but he’s too focused on the way her hips press tightly onto his groin. He lets out a strangled gasp and pulls away, resting his head on her shoulder as she continues to work herself against him. She’s letting out breathy moans above him, and her nails are digging into the skin of his neck. Her eyes are still trained on his, blown wide with lust and need. He’s sure his are a perfect reflection. Reaching up, he pulls her face down for another scorching kiss. She whines and grips at him harder, pressing her body flush against his. He groans and grabs her thighs, picking her up and walking her to the practice ring in the middle of the gym. He sits her down on the apron of the ring, and she immediately tightens her legs around him, pulling his hips impossibly closer to hers. Her teeth nip at his bottom lip, and he feels loses himself within her touch. She’s gripping at the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up and running her hands along his stomach when Anakin finally realizes what’s going on.

“Hold on,” he says, pulling away from her and taking a step back. “What are we doing? We can’t do this! This is unprofessional and if it gets out, it might ruin your career! I couldn’t do that to you, Padmé. You know that, I care-“

“Anakin.”

He stops and looks up, not even noticing he looked away from her during his rant. Her dress is askew and bunched dangerously at her hips. Her makeup is smudged, and most of her hair had fallen out of her ponytail.

She was the most beautiful woman Anakin had ever seen.

“Why is it that now is the moment you decide to think things through?” She looks at him through long eyelashes with a sultry smirk on her face. He shakes his head.

“You’re right. I’m going to shut up now.”

She smiles and it lights up her eyes and Anakin knows he’s in love with her. She reaches forward and pulls him back to her by the shirt.

“Good. You’re going to be needing your mouth for something much more important than talking tonight.”


End file.
